Catastrophe
by I want George
Summary: NS. A minor disaster on New Year's Eve causes Sara to freak out a bit, but Nick's there to help her out, as always.


**A/N:** Okay, so it's been a little over a year since I first posted fiction here, so I just want to take this opportunity to thank every single lovely person who's ever reviewed anything I've ever written. I'm more grateful than you'll ever know, and I wish you all a beautiful 2006.

This one's for my two favourite Canadians, my favourite Clevelander, and my favourite Netherlands girl. Y'all know who you are. :)

* * *

"I'm having a New Year's party," Sara announced proudly on Tuesday evening, passing around small green envelopes to her co-workers. With her resolution for the coming year to be more social and outgoing, she'd impulsively decided the night before that there was no time like the present, and that she was going to host a small seasonal get-together for her colleagues, since no one else had organised anything and she herself didn't have plans. Though her enthusiasm had dropped slightly as she had pondered further over the course of the day, she knew that there was no backing out, and forced a smile as Catherine's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"A party? You?" Catherine's attempt at tactfulness failed embarrassingly, and she tried to mask her disbelief. "I didn't meant it like that, Sara. It's just… This is so unlike you. I mean, I don't think I've even seen your apartment."

Sara smiled brightly, willing Catherine to drop it. "Well, now you can. Are you free?"

"I am." Greg winked across the room at Sara. "And you can bet where I'll be at midnight."

Nick smirked, opening his own invitation. "Passed out in the bathroom, I'm guessing. Don't worry, Sara, we'll keep an eye on him."

Greg chuckled in surprise. "Are you doubting my alcohol tolerance? Last I remember, it was _you_ who hit the hay the earliest during our last men's night out."

"Which was, what, two _years_ ago? You were a lab boy with a lot more free boozing time then." Nick's tone turned to mock-seriousness. "Being a hardcore CSI like myself doesn't leave much time for immature antics now, Greggo."

"Gentlemen, please." Sara sighed, glancing down to read off the paper in her hands. "Could one of you give an invite to Sofia, please? I haven't seen her tonight."

"She's interviewing my witness at the moment, I think, but I can get it to her later on." Catherine put the extra envelope in her pocket. "Although, now I think about it, I don't know if she's free on New Year's Eve. She mentioned something to me about spending it with her new boyfriend."

"Ahh." Sara nodded. In the past, this news would have pleased her endlessly, but her other New Year's resolution was to start being more realistic. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that she'd been over Grissom a lot earlier than she thought, and she wasn't going to stay hung up on someone who was just clearly not into her.

Catherine picked up her bag and turned to leave. "But I'll get it to her anyway. Anyone else you want me to drop off to while I'm over at the station?"

"Nope, that's it, thanks." Sara smiled again, and forcing herself not to sound sarcastic. "Gave Grissom his this morning, and I bumped into Brass in the hallway." Catherine nodded understandingly and left the room, raising her eyebrows in a farewell gesture towards Greg and Nick before closing the door behind her.

"Who else is coming, Sara?"

Sara flipped through the small stack of invites in her hands as she spoke. "Let's see… you, Nick, Cath, Grissom, Warrick, Brass, Archie, Bobby, Doc Robbins, David, and Sofia." She paused, mentally calculating. "Yup, I think that's everyone. Well, everyone I've invited."

"Cool." Nick smiled in approval. "Are you cooking?"

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying that I _can't_?"

Holding up his hands defensively, Nick turned to Greg for support, shaking his head and widening his eyes innocently. "No, no, no. I was just… _surprised_." The two men exchanged a smirk, and Sara narrowed her eyes at them sarcastically.

"Thanks for your support, guys." She tried to ignore the anxious feeling developing in the pit of her stomach – would she really be able to pull this off? – and squared her shoulders defiantly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have invitations to deliver." She swished out of the room, and Nick looked guiltily towards Greg.

"Too harsh?"

Greg laughed. "Nah. Don't worry about it. She's fine." He paused. "Unless you think I should go _check_…?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Nick rolled his eyes, surprised at the slight jealousy he couldn't help but feel, but grinning at his friend all the same. "Don't even go there, man."

* * *

It was Saturday afternoon when Nick was flicking half-heartedly through his TV channels, checking the clock every few minutes and wondering if it would be rude to show up to Sara's early. Despite the fact that he wasn't due to be there for almost three hours, he was showered and dressed, and found himself almost unable to contain his building excitement about the evening before him, although he wasn't exactly sure why. He'd been to Sara's apartment countless times before, but never for a party she'd hosted, and never on New Year's Eve. An incoming text message made his cell phone buzz, and provided a momentary distraction. 

_You busy?_

It was from Sara. Nick furrowed his brows in curiosity, wondering what she could be wanting. He decided to just call her back, and was surprised to hear her pick up on the first ring.

"Hello?" She sounded upset, and Nick couldn't mask the concern in his voice.

"Sara? You okay?"

She sniffed. "Yeah, Nick. I just… I'm fine…" She suddenly burst into tears, and Nick felt his heart quicken a little in alarm.

"Sara, what's wrong?" When she continued to sob and didn't answer, he started to worry. "Sara? I'm coming over, honey." He hung up quickly and ran out the door.

* * *

It was a tear-stained Sara that opened the door not more than ten minutes later, her face crumpling at the concern evident in Nick's eyes. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, and she cried his shoulder for a moment as the stood in the doorway. He couldn't help but notice a slight smell of smoke in the air, and an almighty mess that seemed to have hit the entire apartment like a bomb. He knew that Sara wasn't the tidiest of housekeepers, but even this seemed extreme. He turned his attention back to the shuddering woman pulled against him and stroked her hair, shushing her gently until her sobs subsided. 

"Are you okay?"

Sara looked up at him, shaking her head helplessly. "I can't do this, Nick. I though I could, but I can't. There's too much to do and I can't find anything and everyone's going to be here in two hours and my recipe caught fire and – "

Nick stopped her, placing his hands firmly on her shoulder. "Wait… what? You set your recipe on fire?"

"Well, not intentionally…" Noticing the smile making its way across Nick's face, she let out a half-chuckle, half-sob and sighed, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just didn't know who else to call."

"Oh, Sara, don't worry about it. And don't worry, period." He ushered them both inside, closing the door behind them and surveying the scene before him. "We have two and a half hours, and two sets of hands. We'll be fine." He pulled her into a light hug, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Now, what're we doing?"

She looked tenderly at him. "Thank you."

He grinned back at her. "You can thank me later. But for now, we've got a party to prep for."

* * *

"O-_kay_." Nick burst into the small kitchen where Sara stood chopping vegetables. "The table is set. What next?" 

Continuing to chop, Sara glanced over to the refrigerator door to check her list. "Let's see. Risotto's cooking on the stove?"

"Check."

"Living room is vacuumed?"

"Check."

"Fish in the oven?"

"Check. And with our nicely-improvised recipe, might I say."

Sara smiled. "Yes. Speaking of which, how bad is the smoke smell, do you think?"

"Well, considering we've opened almost every window in the house, not too bad, but I guess a scented candle or two couldn't hurt, just to be sure."

"Ahhh." Sara bit her lip. "I don't think I have any of those lying around."

"Sara! I thought they were a female habitat requirement, along with fluffy pillows and potted plants."

Sara giggled. "Well, I have the plants."

"You do indeed. Okay, I'm gonna make a quick run to the store and pick up a couple candles."

"Great. Thanks." She smiled over her shoulder at him as he left, and Nick couldn't help but notice how adorably domesticated Sara looked, with her apron tied around her waist and the tea towel slung over one shoulder.

She was just finishing putting the salad together when he returned, a plastic Starbucks bag in hand, as well as his other purchases. He popped a to-go cup of coffee on the counter next to her.

"Your favourite."

She sighed appreciatively at him before gulping the beverage down gratefully. "You're too good to me."

He gave her a cheesy smile. "Aren't I? Now I'll finish this up, Ms. Sidle, and you run off to beautify yourself. Not that I don't adore you with garlic in your hair, but the rest of the gang might not be as enthusiastic, and we both know they're a tricky bunch to please. They'll be here in forty-five minutes, so go." He gave her a playful shove towards the kitchen door.

"Okay, okay! I'm going!" She paused. "Don't forget to – "

"Check the potatoes? And make the salad dressing?"

She blushed. "Yeah."

"You got it. Now go!"

* * *

Soft jazz music and the smell of vanilla filtered through the hallway as Sara strolled back down towards the kitchen. To her surprise, her living room was spotless, the lights were turned down, and candles covered almost every available surface. She blinked in amazement, turning when she heard footsteps. 

"Nick, it looks gorgeous in here!"

"Well, so do you." She blushed, and was glad that at least she'd had the sense to plan her outfit in advance, though she hardly considered her top-and-slacks ensemble anything unusual. However, she'd gone out and bought a new shirt for the occasion; a turquoise tank top with a low V-neck and sequined detailing that matched the sparkles on her flat, strappy sandals. She suddenly felt very self-conscious, and found herself fiddling with hair and smiling awkwardly.

"Thanks." Her eyes darted nervously towards his for a moment before settling on the CD player. "Uh, what's this playing?"

"My buddy Frank, of course. I found it in the drawer. Are you telling me you don't even know your own music collection?" He smirked at her. "I gotta say, you never struck me as a Sinatra kind of girl."

Sara smirked back. "I guess it's been a while. Are we ready to go?"

"I think we are." And, as if on cue, the doorbell rang. "You wanna get that? You are the hostess with the mostest, after all." Nick patted her on the shoulder and winked, heading back into the kitchen as Sara opened the door to Grissom, Warrick and Tina.

* * *

"I guess we pulled it off." Nick leaned against the kitchen countertop beside Sara, smiling triumphantly. 

"I think you mean _you_ pulled it off." He refilled his champagne glass and sighed with relief. "Thank you so much for everything tonight, Nick. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Honestly, neither do I." She whacked him on the arm, and they both laughed. "Really, Sar, you're welcome. It was my pleasure. I had fun."

She leaned against his shoulder a little closer. "Me too."

Nick lay his head on top of hers, yawning. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, actually." She checked the microwave clock. "Oh. 11:58."

"Wow. Only two minutes left of the year."

"Yeah." Sara paused. "What a year, huh?"

"Don't I know it." Nick exhaled heavily, slipping his free hand into Sara's as he spoke. "Thanks for being there for me, Sara."

She smiled. "Anytime. I'm glad I was." She took a sip of her champagne. "And thanks for saving my ass tonight. What would I do without you?"

An uproar of laughter echoed through into the small room, followed by the voice of a slightly tipsy Greg. "Nick, man, what are you guys doing in there? It's almost the countdown!"

Nick smiled, more in amusement at how neither he nor Sara made any effort to move into the living room. At the beginning of the final countdown, they turned to face each other, alternately whispering the numbers at the same time as their friends outside shouted while not letting go of each other's hands.

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

"Happy New Year," they whispered simultaneously, before their lips met suddenly in a kiss that Nick was sure could have easily rivalled Warrick and Tina's midnight lip-lock.

The broke apart a few seconds later, a wide grin spreading across Nick's face. "Happy New Year, Sara."

She leaned in to kiss him again before hugging him flush against her, resting her head over his heart. "It sure is."

* * *

**Fin.**


End file.
